


Risk Management

by Greenlady



Series: Dangerous Liaisons [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-19
Updated: 2010-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 00:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Greenlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent and Lois Lane are police officers.  Lex Luthor is mad, bad and still dangerous to know...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risk Management

Strength does not come from physical capacity, it comes from indomitable will. -- Gandhi

****************

'I have embarked upon a relationship with Detective Clark Kent.'

Lex Luthor announced this piece of old news to his assembled senior staff in the same cool, precise, dispassionate tones he might use to inform them he was going on vacation, was dying of a dreaded disease, or had discovered he was growing wings. His staff, however, were not placated, and did, indeed, look rather bewildered and troubled.

'You are probably wondering why I'm telling you this,' he acknowledged. 'Though the personal aspects of my relationship with Detective Kent are not open for discussion, the effects of that relationship on LexCorp are potentially explosive. And though at the moment those effects are incalculable, or at the very least uncalculated, I want calculations about said effects on my desk by morning. We will then have another meeting to discuss those calculations and do some necessary risk management.'

The troubled and bewildered expressions on the faces of his staff cleared, as if by magic. Business. Calculations. Risk Management. All terms they understood, and all so much easier to talk about, and even think about, than messy personal relationships.

It was best to conceal one's mental instability as long as possible from one's employees, thought Lex. The general public, or even the shareholders, were far less dangerous. Employees often had access to one's private supplies of snack food. Lex didn't mind the the possibility of being shot at close range by a wounded soldier who blamed him for the war in Iraq, or Viet Nam. He'd long ago come to terms with the potential threat posed by a disgruntled postal worker who blamed him for the weather. But he'd be damned if he'd die an agonizing death because an employee judged him too mentally damaged to run LexCorp any longer and decided to rectify the situation by putting ground glass in his coffee.

Sonia Wilson piped up, 'I have not calculated the possible risks yet, sir, since your relationship is, as you've noted, of a personal nature. I can foresee, however, both positive and negative aspects of those effects. Would you like me to speculate on those aspects now, as a precursor to our later, more detailed discussion, or would you prefer to wait until all the statistics are in?'

And Clark thinks I talk funny, thought Lex.

'By all means, Ms Wilson, speculate,' he said aloud.

'On the negative side, same-sex relationships are still regarded as detrimental by many people. However, it has been obvious for some time that you often prefer the company of your own gender, so the news of Mister Kent's advent in your life shouldn't be a great shock. Also, if your relationship is of some duration, the general public may see that as positive. He is a police detective, and his life style is of a steady nature.'

'Yes,' said Lex, slowly. 'For some time I have wanted to alter the course of LexCorp toward a more strictly legal basis. Does anyone here object?'

No one raised their hand. Good.

'Not, I hasten to add, have we ever been openly illegal, whatever our enemies may say. But we have, at times, steered close to the wind. I suggest we be more careful now, both for our sakes, and for the sake of Mister Kent. Perhaps I should make this clear. The risks to Mister Kent are as important in our calculations as the risk to me, or to LexCorp. I wish to mitigate all and every risk, if possible.'

His employees looked worried, again. Lex made a private note to himself to start bringing coffee to work in a thermos. 'I mean,' he clarified, 'That I don't want anything that LexCorp does to reflect, in a bad way, on Mister Kent. The snowball effect of this policy, is that whatever we do will reflect on us in a good way. Does anyone disagree with my assessment?'

His employees wore bewildered expressions, as if Lex had suddenly spoken in Latin, or even worse, Etruscan.

'We're out to raise our corporate image above that of our competitors,' Lex explained.

All was well again.

Lex had a happy moment, contemplating how very clearly this meeting delineated his honourable intentions toward Clark, before he remembered that he really couldn't, in all conscience, inform Clark about it.

'We already contribute heavily toward many charities, Mister Luthor,' said William Montrose.

'Contribute more,' Lex ordered. 'At least for the near future. Double our investments in AIDS research. Unless you think that might look suspicious?'

'AIDS is a pretty safe charity to support,' said Montrose. 'It's fallen off the radar as a typically gay disease.'

'Do we want to jettison all our more adventurous investments, Mister Luthor?' asked Jenny Ryan.

'If you mean the less legal ones, Ms Ryan, the answer is yes. Or at least we need to bury them deeply, where they can't be found. This plan is nothing new. I've wanted to make LexCorp as legitimate as possible for years. We made a lot of hay out of our adventures, but lately.... I lived in Smallville, some years ago. It's a farming community, and I worked on a farm for a short time, just for the experience. I learned something about hay -- and about manure. I ran a fertilizer plant. I called it the Crap Factory. But some of the business we've been involved in.... Well, it was necessary for various reasons, at the time. But it was rather less savoury than processing shit.'

Several of his staff members smiled. One or two looked shocked -- whether at the four letter word, or the fact that Lex Luthor disapproved of some of his own former associations and activities Lex had no idea, and didn't care one way or the other.

'What I want,' he said. 'Is a plan that will minimize the damage LexCorp might do to a member of the police community, or that the police community might do to LexCorp. That shouldn't be so hard for us to come up with. We negotiated the Smithwright-Belsen deal.'

His staff were all smiles now, in remembrance.

'We had one or two people, er, eliminated, to do that,' Jenny Ryan pointed out.

'Yes, well, now that's pretty much out of the question, unless things get very rocky. And if they do, be sure to ask for my permission first,' said Lex. 'This time.'

Everyone nodded. Lex almost believed they meant it. Thermos of coffee, he thought. Have Mercy keep an eye on them all, especially Ms Ryan.

'Remember,' he said. 'Calculations on my desk tomorrow morning. Get to work, people.'

His staff filed out, smiling as always. Perhaps contemplating his elimination, and replacement by a clone. Lex wondered again if Clark knew or cared how much he was prepared to sacrifice for his rather dubious love.

But it wasn't only that, he thought. There was more at stake here. Much more.

'Mercy,' he called. His bodyguard appeared, a genie from a bottle. 'I'm going down to the lab,' said Lex.

'You want me along?' asked Mercy.

'Only as far as the door,' said Lex.

Mercy nodded. She led the way to the private elevator. The problem with employees, thought Lex, was that there was only so much you could keep private from them. Quite possibly many of his staff members knew of the existence of this elevator. Lex was definitely sure none of them knew where it led to.

Mercy pushed the button to open the elevator door. Lex stepped inside, alone for now, and the door closed. A light came on. Lex stood still while he was scanned. He answered the coded questions, changed every day. Then he called Mercy to join him.

The elevator descended, down through the LexCorp towers, far below the street level. Mercy was silent at first, then spoke up. 'You going to tell Mister Kent about this lab?' she asked.

'Probably. Maybe. I don't know,' said Lex.

'If I could be permitted to make an observation?'

Lex waved his hand, vaguely. Taking this as permission, Mercy went on, 'Mister Kent is older, and more experienced in the world than he once was.'

'So are we all,' said Lex.

'He may be kinder, more compassionate?'

'He was kind and compassionate then,' said Lex. 'To everyone but me.'

Mercy was silent for the rest of the elevator trip. Then, just as the doors opened she said, 'Perhaps Mister Kent had very high standards for you.'

***************

Lex shut the door behind him. The lock clicked, gently, and a soft light came on. The room was warm, and music was playing -- a Mozart quartet.

'Turn up the lights,' said Lex, and the computer complied. 'Don't be startled,' he went on, in a different, more intimate voice. 'It's just me.'

He walked about the room, touching things, re-arranging things, changing the musical choices at the computer console, altering the direction of the lighting.

'I've come from a meeting with my staff. We're making changes in the company. Our company. We're becoming more legitimate. You don't know what that means yet, but you will, someday. And I'm having dinner with Clark tonight. Remember Clark? I told you about him.'

The computer gave Lex an updated report on the state of affairs in the lab, but Lex kept his voice calm as he talked.

'Clark is a police officer,' he said. 'A detective. He catches the bad guys so they can't go on hurting other people. I've done bad things in my life, but I was lucky, and didn't get caught. Now I can't take the chance of getting caught, so I'm changing my way of life. Because of Clark, and because of you.'

Lex was altering his instructions to the computer, as well, even as he spoke. Perhaps the situation would soon be out of his hands, but he didn't want to think about that possibility. He couldn't give up hope. He had to go on trying, and hoping and planning.

'Perhaps you're wondering why I haven't brought Clark to meet you? It's difficult. Clark is a good man, but he has strict ideas about right and wrong. That's fine in theory, but not always so good in practise. Such people tend to judge too harshly, when other people make mistakes.'

Lex was talking to himself now, he realized. It was a weakness, and he had tried to purge himself of weaknesses. But today, he gave in to this weakness. Under the present circumstances, nothing would come of it.

'Good men,' he said. 'Good people. They judge others by their own standards -- the only standards they know or accept. Did Clark have high standards for me? That's what Mercy suggested. Or did he expect me to be like him, or like his father? I don't want to change Clark. I love him the way he is, even when he drives me insane. Imagine if Clark were like me. No, I can't imagine it, because I want to rule the world. Well, I'm not sure about that any longer, but it's still a possibility. But if I did rule the world, what of it? I'm human. It's my world to rule, if I prove myself capable of it. Clark... Clark isn't human. He has the power to take over the world tomorrow, and how could we resist him? He would hardly even break a sweat. He could do whatever he wanted with the world, remake it the way he pleased. And he might live forever, or at least for many centuries. What would our world be like, after being ruled by a super-powered alien for centuries? No. It can't ever be allowed to happen. Clark must remain Clark. I mustn't try to change him. If one of us changes, it should be me.'

Lex got up from the computer console and leaned his head against the glass wall. 'You don't judge me,' he said. 'You don't want to change me. Not yet. But someday you will change me, whether you want to or not.'

*************

Clark was cheerful. He had recovered his belongings from storage, and bought a new car -- of a sorts. Lex smiled at the sight.

'Hey, not everyone is a billionaire, you know,' said Clark.

'Thank God,' said Lex. 'There wouldn't be any cachet in it, if everyone were.'

'Well, I'm just an ordinary working Joe,' Clark went on.

'Sure you are.'

'And a Ford Escort is fine with me. Can I store my things here, for now?'

'For now? I thought you were... sure, Clark. Just pick a room and dump them there.'

'I didn't want to presume, that's all. I didn't mean anything. Lex! Don't just stomp off.'

Superman was Superman, and when he got angry, there was no point in resisting. So Lex didn't bother resisting when Clark grabbed his arm and hauled him back. He did spit up into Clark's face, releasing all his pent-up fury. 'Don't grab me. I'm not a chew toy,' he snarled.

'A chew toy?' Clark dropped him, looking embarrassed, but not by much. 'I didn't think you were a chew toy. I thought you were going to stomp off, and not speak to me the rest of the day.'

'So what?' said Lex. 'So what if I do stomp off?' Did he stomp off? That sounded rather... proletarian. Pedestrian. Common. Luthors didn't stomp.

'Because I need to talk,' said Clark. 'We need to talk. About things. About my patrol tonight. The Alien Patrol, remember?'

'Believe me, I haven't forgotten. I think about it a lot, and I'm glad you do.'

'I do,' said Clark. 'We're on the same page. Something is out there. I'm not sure if it's hostile or friendly, but it's conscious and it's conscious of me.'

'Maybe it has the hots for you,' said Lex.

'It's not my type,' said Clark. 'I like someone I can see, and touch and feel.'

'A chew toy,' said Lex.

'Chew toy?' Clark stroked Lex's face, touched his throat, ran his hand over Lex's collar bone, and down his arm. Clark's face was solemn, his eyes dark and focused. He could be charming and almost irresistible, when he tried. 'If all I wanted was a toy, I think I could find someone easier, less high maintenance. That's not what I want.'

'What do you want? What are you after? Why did you come back?' Lex's questions were quite sincere, and had actually kept him awake last night, for several hours.

'Why did I come back?' Clark decided to deal with the last question, perhaps because it was easier. 'It was by accident, at first. You know that. But then, I started to remember, and to wonder. I remembered how much I wanted you when I was a kid. I wanted you as much as I wanted Lana, and you seemed even more out of my league. And then, there you were. Maybe not quite so out of reach. So, I wondered. I wondered if it would work out, this time.'

Lex felt a chill at the mention of Lana Lang. But she was long out of the picture. He couldn't resist asking, though. 'You fucked Lana, too. Was it as good as last night?'

Clark laughed. 'I could ask you the same question,' he said. 'But what would the wise answer be?'

'That nothing could compare with last night,' said Lex.

And that was the wise answer, but it was also true.

*************

'It looks like an ordinary cell phone,' said Clark.

'It is an ordinary cell phone,' said Lex. 'Except for this.' Lex opened the back of the phone, and pointed to a silicon chip, about the size of a pin head. 'The world's smallest recording device.'

'You sure about that?' asked Clark. 'Couldn't it be cut in half, or something?'

'I'm working on it,' said Lex. 'Even I have my limitations. But it will do for now.'

'What will it record? Lex, I saw nothing, heard nothing. What I felt was... I can't define it. It was like nothing I've ever felt before, and not in a pleasant way. What do you expect to discover that I can't tell you?'

'I expect nothing. This is a fishing expedition. I'm tossing my lure into deep water, and I'm waiting to see what bites. That's all.'

'I see,' said Clark.

Lex wondered if he did see. Lex often wondered what Clark could and couldn't see. What he could and couldn't hear. What he understood, and what he merely assumed.

'How do I turn it on?' Clark asked. 'The recorder, I mean. There's no button.'

'You make a phone call,' said Lex. 'With the voice activated dialling. Tell the phone to call me, by name -- just my first name. Wait until you are far past our solar system, but prior to the area of space where you encounter this consciousness. If and when the consciousness -- oh, let us call it ET, for want of a better term, because I tire easily -- when ET contacts you, say "mark". When it desists, do the same.'

'You want to compare the readings, to see what's different, if anything?'

'You got it,' said Lex.

Superman tucked the cell phone away in a special new pocket on his uniform, where it was within easy reach, and flew off.

**********

Lex Luthor was a student of the hard sciences. He still considered himself a scientist, despite the fact that he now spent most of his time running a business. Lionel Luthor had been happy for him to study science. There was money in science. The hard sciences, not the social sciences, of course. Business, money, power. These things were real, tangible. The social sciences were soft science. How people felt, thought, perceived. These things were of no use, except perhaps to manipulate.

Lionel Luthor was a master of manipulation, but it came to him naturally, without any study. His inborn capacity was not passed on to his son. Lex had suffered through each lesson, knowing he was unlearning something important. Lex had fought against each new stricture in his life, knowing he was losing something, not gaining, by his capitulation.

In order to graduate with a degree in science, it is necessary to acquire a certain number of credits in the arts, humanities, or social sciences. Lex had taken as many such courses as he could, hoping for ammunition in his fight against his father's world view. One semester, his chosen armoury had resided in Linguistics 325. Introduction to Semantics. And the class had discussed the topic of semiotics. Signs. Representations. The Structuralists, and how meanings changed across cultures.

Lex had protested that so much of this was obvious. Ms Rawlings had agreed, but said, 'Lex, it isn't a question of how much of this is new. It's a question of accepting it, of coming to a realization of how it works. We know, for example, that this sign here...' and she drew a cross on the chalk board, 'That this sign is only a mark. It is two lines, that is all. But people have died for it. They have killed for it. Why?'

One student offered the opinion that, 'It isn't the sign they fought for. It's the religion.'

Someone else sneered, 'Christianity? Christianity is supposed to be about love, and forgiveness. Why were they fighting for their religion?'

'They thought the world would be a better place?'

Someone else said, 'I think the world would be a better place without religion, but I'm not going to kill for it.'

'Stalin did.'

'Aren't we getting off topic, here?'

'Are we?' asked the Professor. 'I drew a cross on the board, and the symbol, the sign, touched on various meanings in our minds. What if I drew another symbol? What does this mean to you?'

'That's a swastika,' said Rob Myers. 'It's the symbol of the Nazis.'

'No it's not,' said Sintinder Atwal. 'It's a sacred symbol in Hinduism. It goes back to Neolithic India. Three thousand years ago, in fact. The word svastika is Sanskrit, and means lucky.'

'You're kidding,' said Myers.

'No,' said Ms Atwal. 'The Nazis appropriated the symbol, and changed its meaning, I hope not forever.'

'But people fought and died over this symbol, and it still arouses hatred today. Why?' asked the professor.

The class discussed the whys and the wherefores for several days, without coming to a solution. But Lex knew why in his heart. People fought and died over symbols because they were desperate for something to believe in. The thing about a symbol, such as a cross, was that it could be the same tomorrow as it is today, and was yesterday. A symbol didn't normally morph into something else overnight. Yes, it could be appropriated by your enemies, and used against you. But the symbol in and of itself was the same.

A year ago, an article appeared in a national newspaper, by a writer named Mortimer Echo, unknown before, and since. The article was entitled 'Does the World Need Superman?', and said, in part:

 

..... And so we come to the realization that Superman embodies our deepest dreams and desires for a saviour. Superman wears primary colours, like a child's drawing. Nothing dark, mysterious, murky, dangerous here. Superman blinds us with the pure, deep, honesty of his intentions....

...We live by contraries, by opposites. Life/death. Light/dark. Good/evil. If Superman is alive, he must not be dead. If he is light, he must not be dark. If he does no evil, he must do good....

...Superman does no evil. He uses his powers to rescue people, to solve crimes. He smiles blandly at the cameras. Clearly he harbours no ill intentions. He must be Good, and good for us....

 

Lex wondered if Clark had ever read the article. He wondered what Clark thought of it, if he had read it. He wondered if Clark knew Lex Luthor was the author.

**********

The intercom rang. Lex hated buzzing intercoms.

'Yes, Margot?'

'Mister Luthor, Martha Kent is here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment, but... should I let her in?'

'Certainly, Margot. And please, could you have fresh coffee brought in? And something to go with it. Croissants. Muffins.'

'Muffins, sir?'

'Muffins,' said Lex. 'Croissants.'

We're going all out to impress, according to the tastes of our clientelle, thought Lex. His usual sort of visitor didn't eat muffins. They ate babies. For breakfast. Martha Kent didn't eat babies, but she looked as if she wanted to eat him -- and not in any sort of loving fashion.

'How kind of you to drop by,' said Lex. 'Please. Have a seat. Margot will be bringing in refreshments, in a moment. In the meantime, let me know -- is there something I can do for you? Something I can help you with?'

'You can start by telling me what you've been doing to my son,' said Martha Kent.

'Doing to your son?' Lex echoed, bewildered. Unless Martha wanted details of their sex life together -- which was in its nascent stages, and since Lex was still rather resistant to the concept, mostly consisted of Clark doing things to him -- Lex had no idea what she was talking about. 'I've done nothing to him. He's out flying around Metropolis, rescuing kittens from trees, and encouraging crooks to shoot at him so he can enforce upon the public consciousness his invulnerability. I wasn't the one who put that idea into his head.'

'I don't know what you mean,' said Martha.

'Don't underestimate my intelligence,' said Lex. 'It's one thing when competitors do it, because I've planned it that way. It's another thing entirely when someone like you takes me for a fool. I lived in Smallville when Clark's abilities were developing. Then, years later, someone who looks like Clark shows up, flying around wearing a clown costume and a grim smile. I put two and two together and came up with: Clark Kent Is Superman.'

'And what do you plan on doing about it?' asked Martha.

'Me? Nothing. I don't approve. But Clark has the stubborn idiocy of the genetically insane with an inborn messianic complex.'

'How can you despise him like that?' asked Martha. Her eyes were all misty, for God's sake. 'How can you not see how noble he is?'

'Despise him? I don't despise him. It's the other way around. I've always loved him and admired him and wanted him. And he started out liking me, but you talked him out of it.'

Margot tapped lightly on the door in warning, cutting off whatever Martha was about to say in reply. Margot opened the door, and ushered in a maid with a cart. 'Coffee!' she announced. 'Muffins and croissants.'

'Would you like me to pour the coffee, Mister Luthor?' asked the maid.

'No, thank you, Simone,' said Lex. 'We'll manage on our own. Thanks, Margot.'

Lex listened to the door as it shut, closing him back in the room, alone with Martha Kent. 'Have a muffin,' he said.

'I didn't talk him out of liking you,' said Martha. 'You did.'

'Really? I tried to be a friend. I told him many things about me, including my weaknesses. I didn't lie to him. He lied to me, over and over....' His throat closed on the pain of that, making it difficult to speak. 'But I forgave him,' he managed. 'You taught him to judge, and pre-judge.'

'I was trying to protect him,' said Martha. 'Your friendship was dangerous. Is dangerous.'

'Yes, it is,' Lex agreed. 'I stand to lose everything.'

*****************

'I want to show you something,' said Lex.

Martha Kent followed him to the elevator -- rather trustingly, thought Lex, considering his danger quotient. The elevator doors swished open, swished shut, swished open again, and they were in the Penthouse. Lex touched a wall panel, and the huge windows overlooking Metropolis turned from opaque to clear. Lex strode to them, pulled open the French doors, waved to Martha to join him out on the patio.

'Behold!' said Lex. 'The City of Metropolis -- by no means a one-business town. LexCorp does dominate Metropolis, I grant you, but do we dominate it to its undoubted detriment? When you drove here, did you see people dying of hunger in the streets? Did you see thousands of my detractors being led away in chains to dungeons below LexCorp? Have you even heard rumours of such a thing happening to any one of my detractors? Do I hold Games, like the Roman Emperors, in which my enemies are torn apart by wild beasts? Well?'

'No,' said Martha Kent.

Lex picked up some current newspapers and magazines from a patio table. 'Have you read these?' he asked. 'Check out the editorials in this paper. The editor clearly has a grudge against me. She consistently criticizes my every move, my every policy, my private life, and my heritage. She's still alive, and still publishing her newspaper as we speak.'

'Yes,' said Martha Kent.

'I have known that Clark is Superman from the moment he appeared. I knew who his family was, who his friends were, where he worked and where he lived. I've made no moves to use that knowledge, for good or for ill.'

'Until recently,' said Martha Kent.

'Recently, Clark contacted me -- not the other way around. He came to LexCorp, forced his way into my office by flashing his badge, touched me in front of hostile witnesses, made insinuations on public television that we were more than friends, made advances toward me -- which I attempted to brush off, but I'm only human... and he did put out, so at least he's not a cock tease....'

'I see,' said Martha Kent.

'Do you? Then don't come here accusing me of corrupting your innocent boy. If he's corrupted, it happened long ago, and not at my hands.'

'I don't think he's corrupted at all. Not yet, at least.'

'But I am,' said Lex. 'I am corrupt and corrupting. A few days of my evil company, and Clark will be helping me to take over the world. Is that your fear?'

'One of my fears, I suppose,' said Martha.

'Well, you can lay that particular fear to rest,' said Lex. 'If I ever do get around to taking over the world, I'll do it myself. I have other uses for Clark.'

'So you admit you're using him?'

'Well, yes,' said Lex. 'Didn't you?'

'What!' said Martha. 'You have to put your typical Luthor slant on everything, don't you? I didn't use Clark. I love him.'

'You didn't use Clark? Never? Not at all? You didn't use him to fulfil your frustrated motherly instincts? You didn't use him to work around the farm?'

'I expected things from Clark, of course. That's something different from using him. How can you be so cynical?'

'Everyone uses other people, Martha,' said Lex. 'It doesn't matter what you call it. That's not cynicism, it's just reality.'

'Reality from your point of view, perhaps. Some people do give as well as take.'

Lex took a step back, very carefully, edging toward the balcony doors. He kept his voice even and gentle. 'Give as well as take? And I've never done that, are you suggesting? If my memory serves me, I tried to give, and my gifts were refused.'

'You were trying to buy Clark's friendship,' said Martha. 'We were trying to protect him.'

'I see,' said Lex. He stepped back into the penthouse. 'Please, don't let me keep you, if you have finished enjoying the view. I'm sure you're a very busy woman, as I am a very busy man. Clark should be back in a few hours. I'll tell him you called, and would like to speak to him. You shouldn't have any trouble convincing him to dump me. It's happened before, and will inevitably happen again. I won't try to stop you.'

'Why not, Lex?' Martha asked, and she actually sounded suspicious.

'It's pointless,' Lex explained. 'If you -- or any of Clark's friends, for that matter -- accused me of being the Boston Strangler, he'd take your word against mine.'

'I don't think that's true. Not any longer. But you say that as though it doesn't matter to you.'

'It doesn't,' said Lex. 'Not as far as our personal relationship goes. We have a project in the works that isn't personal, and I'll expect him to keep his word on that. Hasn't he spoken of it to you?'

'He said something about keeping an eye out for invading aliens,' said Martha. 'I didn't think he was serious.'

'Clark might not be serious,' said Lex. 'But I am. Surely after all that's happened since Clark arrived on Earth, you cannot deny that other species of intelligent life exist in the universe? And you cannot believe that they are all friendly and harmless, like Clark. Do you want me to escort you out, or can you find your own way?'

Martha's response, whatever it would have been, was interrupted. A blur of red and blue flashed by, and Superman landed in the Penthouse. Well, thought Lex, had that little scene been part of a plot? Martha's visit, the accusations, the attempted argument.... Had Martha expected him to threaten her? Attack her? Superman would have flown to her rescue. Perhaps tossed Lex off the top of LexCorp, to tumble to the ground below. Or had Clark been in on the plot? He was home a bit early.

'You're home a bit early,' Lex observed, coolly.

'Yes,' said Clark. 'There wasn't much going on in Metropolis, so I headed out on my other mission. Everything was peaceful there, too. So I came home.'

'Okay,' said Lex.

The whole damned universe was peaceful, it seemed. But Clark looked... odd. That was the only word for it. A bit puzzled and tousled and... odd.

'Are you all right?' Lex asked.

'I think so,' said Clark. 'I'm not sure.' He seemed to notice Martha for the first time. 'Mother? Why are you here? Is everything okay? Dad? Is Dad okay?'

'Your father's fine,' said Martha.

'Your mother dropped by to say hello,' said Lex. 'She was just leaving.'

Clark smiled. 'That's great,' he said. 'Do you have to leave right away? Why don't you stay for dinner? Lex has a French chef.'

Okay. So it didn't seem Clark was in on the plot, whatever the hell the plot was. If there was a plot. But there usually was a plot, Lex had discovered. It was best to just let the plot play out, to watch the plot as it danced and gyrated toward its inevitable climax.

And then to shoot it.

Lex turned to smile at Martha, as if they shared a little joke, perhaps against Clark, but in an affectionate way. 'Please,' said Lex. 'Do stay for dinner. My chef would be eternally grateful.'

 

*************

Lex sat and watched the fire's flickering flames. Nice alliteration, he thought. He could, if he tried, come up with something better -- but what was the point? Words were of civilization and convention. Words reduced fire to a tool. Fire was, in its soul, born of chaos. If he stared into the very heart of the fire for long enough, it became a great conflagration, wild and all-consuming, and no longer his tamed, restrained and contained household pet. He could imagine letting it loose, to burn and burn until the world was black and smoking. Sometimes he wished for such a holocaust -- but only sometimes. The truth was, he enjoyed the world too much to destroy it -- except in his imagination, when the world didn't bend to his wishes or reward his love in the proper fashion. If the world burned, he would miss it. Indeed, it was the only world he had, until the other worlds in the universe decided to contact him.

Dinner had been a tense affair, but he was used to that, and it didn't bother him, mostly. Clark hadn't seemed to notice the tension. It appeared he was pleased that his mother and... boyfriend? .... lover?... fuck buddy?... whatever... Clark had been pleased that Martha Kent and Lex Luthor were sitting down to dinner at the same table, together and with him. Martha had been polite, but every time her eyes rested on Lex there had been a look. It was a look both simple and complex at the same time. A look that told Lex he wasn't welcome. That Lex was a supreme disappointment and always had been. That if this were the days of the Borgias, his food taster would have a short life. From any other being in the universe, he would not have tolerated such a look at his own dinner table. But this was Martha Kent. Clark's mother. Lex still harboured a deep, secret, filial love for Martha Kent. It was a doomed love, as was Lex's love for Clark, but he simply couldn't repay her treatment of him with the harshness it deserved.

Lex had smiled, carried on a friendly conversation, offered Martha his arm in to the dining room. Maurice had outdone himself with dinner, and it had been delicious, according to Clark. It had all tasted of ashes in Lex's mouth. Martha kept tossing him those disapproving glances. They reduced him to a little boy, wearing his father's shoes, pretending to host dinner at his father's table.

He was not that little boy, and he refused to play that game. Clark was Martha's little boy, still. Lex was not. He was a grown man. The owner and CEO of a powerful international corporation. He was one of the most powerful men on Earth. He had plans to become the most powerful, in the near future.

His wealth and power meant nothing to Martha, of course. Nothing he was and nothing he did meant anything to her. He had saved her farm, her home and livelihood, twice. He had tried to be a friend to Clark. He had kept Clark's secret, without a moment's thought, and would continue to do so, no matter what happened. He would never betray Clark, for any amount of money, or revenge. But still, he was nothing in Martha Kent's eyes. What more could he do to win her respect, if not her love? Give up the wealth and power that were his? Pretend to be someone he was not? Ordinary? Poor? Powerless?

Martha had asked that Clark escort her home. Clark had obliged. They were, no doubt, by this time, deep into a conversation about Lex's shortcomings and the dangers that a relationship with him presented. Martha had, by now, no doubt, begun to convince Clark to abandon Lex and find someone better. And Lex had always known such a thing would happen. He had expected it, in fact. So why did it still hurt, even to imagine it?

The answer to such pain was always to face it, head on. Not to flee from it, to pretend it didn't exist. But to face it, to accept it. If it were welcomed, or at least accepted, like that, like an old friend, pain could become almost akin to pleasure. This pain was an old friend, though Lex had never been able to convince it to give him pleasure.

Lex stared into the heart of the fire, into the white hot depths. He abandoned his whisky, and drank in the power and the heat of that flame. He consumed the fire, and let it consume him. They burned together, as he remembered the fire that sprang from Clark's touch.

Clark was no virgin, but he was not the most experienced and skillful lover Lex had ever known. In fact, Lex had had a number of extremely skilled and experienced lovers. He simply couldn't remember their names, or their faces. The fire of Clark's touch had burnt the memory of their names and faces to ash, and with it any and all desire for other such lovers.

Lex shut his eyes, shutting out the physical sight of the flames, but they burned still against the inside of his closed lids, as the heat of Clark's touch still burned on his body. He could feel the ghosts of Clark's hands and his mouth against his skin. He could feel the iron strength of his muscles, the heat of his cock, the silken smoothness of his thighs. He could hear Clark's sighs, and his moans and his whisper of Lex's name. Until the day he died, he would remember these things and more.

'Lex? Are you awake?'

At first, Lex thought the voice was part of his waking dream.

'Lex!'

Lex pried his eyes open, with some difficulty. 'Oh. Hello, Clark.'

'Good. You're awake.'

'Yes. In a manner of speaking. What can I do for you? I suppose you've come to pick up your things? Shall I ask a servant to help you pack up, if you actually got around to any unpacking?'

'Huh? No, I haven't unpacked.'

'That's convenient.'

'Convenient for what, Lex?'

'Have some caviar before you go. There's snacks over there. On the table.' Lex waved vaguely in the direction of the table, which was laden with an assortment of largely untouched snack food.

'Snacks,' said Clark. 'Only you would call caviar and lobster a snack.'

'I enjoy being unique,' said Lex. 'But have some. Let's not let it go to waste.'

'Yes, I can see you've been heavily into the... caviar.' Clark aimed a disapproving look at Lex's whisky glass.

'I only had one drink, and I didn't finish it,' said Lex. 'I'm not drunk. I've been breathing fire. But have some caviar. There's plenty, and it should be consumed within a particular time window, before it goes bad.' He added, as an aside, 'The Penthouse could survive a prolonged siege, you know. We have our own backup generator. The roof-top gardens grow edible plants, as well as decorative ones. We collect rainwater in barrels, to water the gardens, but it could be filtered and made drinkable. There is enough frozen food and canned food to feed an army in Mrs Regent's pantry. You could take some with you when you leave, and we'd never notice.'

'That's nice,' said Clark. 'And what have you been breathing with the fire? Something illegal, I think. You're not making any sense. I'm not going anywhere.'

'Sure,' said Lex.

'Here. Eat something. You must be hungry.'

Clark handed him a plate of caviar, crackers and lobster. God.

'I had dinner,' said Lex.

'Not much of it. I was watching you. You picked away at it. A lettuce leaf here. A bite of fish there. And you bragged about your French chef.'

'What concern is that of yours?' asked Lex.

'I love you,' said Clark.

'What?'

'I love you. I've always loved you, and I always will.'

'Thanks. That's sweet of you.'

'Don't do that. Don't cheapen it. Don't brush it aside like....'

'I never cheapened it, Clark. You did.'

'That's not true.'

'It is. Tell me something. What happened the day we met? At the bridge? What happened, according to Clark Kent?'

'You know what happened.'

'Humour me. Tell me what happened, in your own words.'

'I was standing on the bridge, looking over the river. You were driving a bit fast, not too much. A truck dropped a load of wire, and you skidded, trying to avoid it.'

'Go on.'

'Why? You want me to confess to being Superman, and rescuing you?'

'If you like, but I don't really care about that.'

'Well, okay. You hit me. We went through the rail and into the river. I rescued you. I pulled you out of the car, and flew up to the riverbank, and gave you mouth to mouth, and saved your life. Happy?'

'Delirious. But you still haven't told me what I want to know.'

'Give me a clue, Lex. A hint.'

'What did that day mean to you?'

'Mean to me? It was the day I learned who I was. And we became friends.'

'I see,' said Lex. 'Were those two events connected, in your mind?'

'I suppose. In a way. Your turn. Give me your version.'

'You want to hear my version?'

'Yes. I want to hear your version.'

'I've given you my version. Many times.'

'Humour me.'

'Very well. Consider yourself humoured. Something amazing happened to me that day. I was driving along the road, minding my own business, going a little fast, but not much. And a truck dropped a load of wire in my path. And I swerved, and I hit a beautiful young man standing on a bridge, and we went over the railing together, and he pulled me out of the car, and flew with me up onto the riverbank, and gave me mouth to mouth, and brought me back to life -- and then lied about it for years after.'

'I know,' said Clark.

'I understand why he lied. But still, he lied. He lied about something that was sacred, for me. He lied and lied, until he twisted something inside me that was just starting to grow. Something I thought was going to save my life. My real life, I mean. Not the useless one he had so casually saved.'

'Lex....'

'You're right. That's all in the past, and I wouldn't have brought it up. Except that a few days ago, you ran me over, like a truck.'

'Lex....'

'I'm still in recovery.'

'What's the prognosis.'

'I'll survive.'

'Good... But, Lex, something else is bothering you. Tell me.'

'Tell you what?'

'Is it about the cell phone? Did your lab find something already?'

'No. They're still working on it.'

'Okay. Maybe it's better if they don't find anything. It was weird out there today. I didn't want to talk about it much in front of Mom. She doesn't exactly approve of our working together.'

'Really? She's just worried about you.'

'Because I'm so fragile. It's not like I'm Superman.'

'Right. But define "weird" for me, Superman.'

'I can't. Not really. That's what the word means. Something strange, and indefinable.'

'Just what we need more of in our lives,' said Lex.

'That sounds ominous. Lex, tell me what's bothering you. If it isn't the cell phone, what is it? Or maybe we should just go to bed....'

'No!' said Lex.

'No?'

Clark sounded angry at the refusal, and that had a most unfortunate effect on Lex's control. The suggestion that he belonged to Clark, that he was Clark's to command, burned through his veins, reminding him of the fires of last night, the ecstasy of being taken over, owned, ravished. He had to turn away, walk to the windows and look out on the night sky.

'No,' he went on, after a moment. 'We do need to talk.'

''What is it you've done now?' asked Clark. He sounded amused, rueful, not angry, but still....

'What have I done? Nothing. Not this time.'

'I haven't done anything, either. Not that I'm aware of. If someone's broken one of your toys, it wasn't me.'

'I know,' said Lex.

'Lex? What happened. Did someone get into one of your labs?'

'Not one of my labs, and it was several months ago... Just listen, okay. This is important. Four months ago, one of your friends -- Green Arrow, it was -- blew up one of my father's labs. Do you remember?'

'I... vaguely, I guess. I don't really keep track of everything he does.'

'Well who could? But anything with the Luthor name on it must be doing dangerous research, and it gets blown up, eventually, thus releasing any and all dangerous substances into the atmosphere. And this is a good thing, how, exactly?'

'It's supposed to frighten you, and your father, into not carrying out such experiments. I guess.'

'You guess? It's terrorism, Clark. I don't bow to terrorism. Neither does Dad. You and your friends must be fools, if you think we would.. But never mind, just listen. I'm getting to the part that affects Clark Kent, so pay attention.'

'Lex....'

'It wasn't one of my labs. It was Dad's. I knew nothing of what was going on. But Dad gave me the job of cleaning up afterwards, for a fee. Dad turned the site of the lab over to me. My crew cleaned it up, made it environmentally safe again. We're building a new lab there.'

'Yes. Of course. And?'

'Don't be so impatient, Detective. This is hard for me to talk about. It's not about toys. It's something else.' Lex took a deep breath. He must trust the message in the flames, he thought. He and Clark had burned together, and become one fire. He must trust that. 'My crew found something in the wreckage. A container that survived the bomb blast, for the most part.'

'What was in it? An experiment?'

'Experiment? Yes.' Lex took hold of the back of a chair, gripped it so hard he thought his knuckles would crack. 'Not my experiment. I want you to understand that, before I go any further. I had nothing to do with the experiment. I knew nothing about it, and was furious when I discovered its existence. Outraged, in fact. So outraged that I nearly declared war on my father, before I realized I couldn't. I realized that the existence of this experiment, and its survival of the bomb blast, had to be kept as quiet as possible. Do you understand me? Before I go any further, you have to agree to keep this quiet, too.'

'Lex! How can I agree to such a thing, if I don't know what I'm agreeing to?'

'You will have to trust me,' said Lex. 'It's a stretch, I know, but there it is. I won't go any further, until you agree. This stays between you and me. And Mercy knows, of course. But her mind is like Fort Knox. What she knows stays there.'

Clark was silent for a long moment, staring at Lex. His eyes were dark, and dangerous. Once upon a time, he would have erupted, perhaps into physical violence. But since then, he'd worked with Batman, met far more dangerous lunatics than Lex Luthor had ever been or ever would be. Also, there was that newly developed connection between them.

'I promise,' said Clark. 'It will be our secret. Unless, of course, whatever is in that lab is a danger to humanity.'

'No. It's not. And it's not a danger to you and me, either. I'm not worried about us. I'm worried about the lab experiment.'

'Well, what is it?' asked Clark. 'Tell me.'

'I'll tell you,' said Lex. 'And I'll show you. Come with me.'

*************

'Are you going to open the door?' asked Clark.

'I'm the only person who has ever been in this room,' said Lex. 'Since it was built, I mean. Mercy knows about it, but I've never let her in. She keeps asking.'

'I won't destroy the lab, Lex,' said Clark. 'I promised. I won't break my promise.'

'It's not really a lab, you see. Not to me. If anyone should ask about it -- well it is a lab, where I do private chemistry experiments. I'm working on a cheap source of fuel. Quite legitimately. But once we're in that room, it's a room. Got that?'

'Yes, Lex. It's a room. Anything you say. Are you going to let me in the room? I can't see through the walls of the room. They're lined with lead.'

'Don't break anything,' said Lex.

'I won't, I swear. And I washed my hands and face before I came here.'

'Thanks, Eliza,' said Lex.

'Eliza? What... Oh, yeah. Eliza Doolittle. My Fair Lady.'

'Pygmalion,' said Lex.

'Whatever,' said Clark.

'Pygmalion created a beautiful statue, and fell in love with it, and it became a real woman, and they lived happily ever after. But sometimes the creation turns on its creator.'

'Frankenstein... no, Frankenstein's monster, I mean. Frankenstein is the scientist who created the monster.'

'It isn't a monster, in that room.'

'Well, what is it, then? You can tell me, Lex. We're friends, remember?'

'Cute.' Lex slid down the wall, to sit on the floor. He rested his arms on his knees, and his head on his arms. Why was he doing this? It had all made sense a few minutes ago. Too much fire, he thought, and not enough fuel. Perhaps he was wrong, when he thought the Joker was crazier. Just to prove it, he heard himself say, 'It's a baby.'

'It's a what?'

'A baby, Clark.'

'As in... a baby? A... human baby?'

'Partly. Partly human.'

'Partly? What's the other part?' asked Clark, sounding rather panicked -- and how could Lex blame him?

'The other part is kryptonian.'

'Kryptonian? As in... kryptonian.'

It was like a vaudeville routine, thought Lex. 'You're getting it,' he said.

'How? What? Where? When....'

'Why?' said Lex. 'That's the question I couldn't figure out the answer to.'

Clark was silent for a long moment. Then he said, 'You know the how, and the what and the where, and the when, do you?'

'Pretty much,' Lex admitted. 'I figured it out from the clues.'

'Tell me.'

'My father, or his researchers, mixed human and kryptonian DNA. They created a hybrid baby.'

'A clone?'

'No. It's not a clone. It's an individual baby, with characteristics of both species.'

Another long silence. Then, 'Whose? Whose DNA?'

'Well, yours, of course.'

'Mine?'

'The supply of kryptonian DNA is rather limited,' said Lex.

'True,' said Clark. 'Whose human DNA did they use?'

Oh, God, thought Lex. 'Mine,' he said. Suddenly he was upright. Not standing on his feet, but being held several inches off the floor by a furious Clark Kent. And wasn't that a surprise?

'How did they get the DNA?' Clark demanded. 'Why? What's this all about?'

'I don't know, Clark. I told you, it had nothing to do with me. I only rescued the baby after one of your friends nearly killed him.'

Clark glared at him for a long moment, then relaxed and let him sink back down to his feet. 'Sorry,' he muttered.

'You're forgiven,' said Lex, sliding back down the wall. 'When I found out, I raged for days. Furniture had to be replaced.'

Clark stalked up and down the hallway for a while. Once or twice he glared at the door as if he were thinking of breaking it down.

'He's a baby,' said Lex, softly, at last. 'Don't frighten him.'

'Sorry,' said Clark, again. He came, and slid down to sit beside Lex. 'This whole thing is....'

'I know.'

'It's... we're parents?'

'My two daddies.'

'God... Why didn't you tell me before?'

'Oh, yes, certainly. First thing I thought of. Call Clark and give him the good news. I was sure you'd be thrilled. But you were always busy and it isn't the sort of message you leave on voicemail: "Hi, Clark. Haven't seen you for a while. Hope you're okay. By the way, we have a baby." No. Didn't work for me.'

'You never called me, Lex.'

'Of course I didn't call you. Do you think I'm suicidal? We weren't even on speaking terms, let alone baby-making terms.'

Clark digested this in silence for a moment. Then he said, 'When are you going to let me in? I want to see it.'

'He's not an it. He's a baby. A baby boy.' Lex took a deep breath. 'Well, he's still a foetus. Still attached to the incubator where he was grown. As I said, your friend Green Arrow damaged the unit.'

Clark's head swivelled around with startling speed. 'Damaged?' he gasped, as if the whole concept of damage had just sunk in.

'The unit was damaged. The baby is still alive, but he stopped developing.'

'What do you mean?' Clark breathed.

'What I just said. He stopped developing. He's alive, but not growing. He can't be... born yet. He's not ready.'

'Show me!' Clark demanded.

'Calm down first!' said Lex.

'Show me!'

'Don't shout. Don't go in there and stomp around and make loud noises, and disturb the baby. He's alive. He's a baby. Loud noises and anger will frighten him.'

Clark breathed through his nose rather loudly for a moment, then nodded. 'You're right,' he said. 'I'm calm.' His calm, cool Superman face descended over his more usual vibrant Clark face. 'Let's go. Let's see our baby.'

Lex opened the door, and waved Clark inside.

'It's dark in here,' said Clark.

'The room is designed to simulate earth's environment, in this time and place, and it's long after sunset, now,' said Lex. 'You can see without light, anyway, and I'm used to it. I'll raise the lights slowly, though.'

Lex strode to the control panel and turned up the lighting. Soft music came up. An etude by Chopin. Clark was already staring at the large glass incubator.

'It's a baby,' he said. 'He's... he's floating in some kind of liquid.'

'It simulates amniotic fluids, like in the mother's womb.' Lex touched the glass, leaned his head against it. 'Hi, son,' he said. 'I brought someone to meet you. This is Clark. I told you about Clark, remember?'

The baby's eyes opened, sleepily. He stirred a little, as if looking about for Clark.

'He's tiny,' said Clark.

'Yes. Come here. Come close to the glass. He can't see very far. His eyes aren't developed enough.'

'He can see?' asked Clark, astonished.

'Of course. He's old enough to see, but just a little. Too much light will hurt his eyes. This glass... we can see in more clearly than he can see out. We're mostly a blur to him. But if you get close to the glass he can see your face.'

Clark did so, and the baby's eyes opened wider, for a moment. His face remained expressionless, but his mouth opened and closed several times, a bit like a frog's.

'Does he know who I am?' asked Clark.

'Of course he does,' Lex whispered savagely. 'I explained all about genetics and human and kryptonian biology, and how his daddy's friends nearly killed him, and how he's different from every other being in the universe. I don't think he understands everything I told him yet, but he's working on it.'

'Lex. I just meant, you said you talked to him about me. That's all. What did you tell him?'

'That you're an idiot,' said Lex.

'Okay,' said Clark, cheerfully. 'Hi, baby,' he went on. 'I'm your other daddy -- Daddy Clark, and I'm an idiot. Let's hope you inherit my hair, and Daddy Lex's brains.'

'I hope so too,' said Lex. He turned away to study the computer screens. After a moment, he felt Clark's hands massaging his shoulders. Then his voice whispering in his ear.

'You're worried about him.'

'Yes, I am,' said Lex. 'He's so tiny.'

'Let's go back upstairs, and talk,' said Clark. 'There might be some way I can help.'

'How?' asked Lex, hardly daring to hope.

'The AI,' said Clark.

'The what?'

'Let's go upstairs,' Clark repeated. 'Where we can talk and yell and throw things without disturbing the baby. Okay?'

'Yeah,' said Lex. 'Maybe you're not an idiot, after all.'

'The baby will be relieved to hear that,' said Clark.

************

Lex emerged from his cocoon of blankets, stumbling a little, desperately trying to maintain his dignity. Superman seemed to have no trouble maintaining his usual bland Superman demeanour, and didn't grin -- fortunately for him, or Lex would have been forced to slap him. His palm itched to do so, and had for some time, but there would be no benefit in it. He distracted himself by busily unwrapping Superman's cape from the baby's incubator, muttering about the cold and the dangerous speed of their journey here.

'He's fine!' snapped Superman.

Lex ignored him. He tossed the red cape in Superman's direction. 'Here!' he said. 'You look naked without it.' But he looked just as naked with it, which didn't improve Lex's temper in the least. He bent to check out the baby in the incubator, and Superman sniffed. I made Superman sniff, thought Lex.

'He's fine, I told you,' said Superman. 'He's fine.'

'I'd rather check that for myself, if you don't mind.'

'You don't trust me,' Superman whined.

'If I didn't trust you,' said Lex, in his most reasonable talking-to-idiots-and-lunatics voice -- which, by the way, he found himself using a lot lately. Was it something in the water, or the air, or the lack of challenging education? Was it an alien plot? Whatever the cause, it was discouraging -- 'If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be here. But I'm not about to throw up my hands in submission, and sit back and let you handle everything just because you can. I'm the baby's father.'

'So am I,' said Superman, at his most supercilious.

'Half his father,' said Lex, which didn't make much sense, come to think. 'Or, the father of half of him,' he tried again. That was marginally better.

'Which half?' asked Superman, sounding amused.

'The annoying half,' Lex explained. The baby opened his eyes, and looked at Lex -- rather reprovingly, he thought, and he hadn't even been born yet. Half an hour in Superman's company, and the baby was already starting to criticize his own father, for God's sake. Lex was doomed. Never let them see you sweat, was his motto though, and he looked around Superman's little vacation home for some distraction. Ice, ice, and more ice. How charming. 'What do you call this place again?' he asked.

'The Fortress of Solitude,' said Superman. 'I already told you that.'

'Yes, but after our zippy little trip up here, I'm not sure I remember my own name. And no wonder you're in solitude. Who'd want to visit you in this dump?'

'That's the idea,' said Superman. 'I need time alone.'

'Hey, you could have used the castle any time. Talk about being alone. But it's a bit warmer, at least. How do I turn up the heat?'

'Warm this place up, will you?' said Superman, to someone or something or other.

'It that a request?' asked a voice from the heavens, or somewhere similar. 'Or is that an order?'

'It's an order, of course.'

'It was phrased as a question,' the Voice pointed out. 'Which I assume should be interpreted as a request.'

'Oh, for.... Warm the place up! That's an order.'

'How warm?' asked the Voice. 'If I warm it too much, all the ice in the Arctic Circle will melt, and that will have serious consequences for the entire planet.'

'Raise the temperature to 25 degrees Celsius,' Lex ordered. 'And keep the heat localized. Don't get fractious with me, by the way.'

'I am not programmed to take orders from you,' the Voice replied. 'Whoever you are.'

'You will be,' said Lex. 'I'm Lex Luthor.'

'And who in the world is Lex Luthor?'

'I sent you a message about Lex Luthor,' said Superman, over Lex's squawk of outrage. 'Read it and shut up.'

'Reading,' said the Voice. It actually sounded a bit hurt, but it shut up. Good.

'Do you mean to say that your famous AI hasn't heard of me?' asked Lex. 'I was your worst enemy, and will be again if things don't start improving around here.'

'Oh, that wasn't the AI,' said Superman. 'Not really.'

'Well, where is the AI? We need to discuss a few boundaries, because I'm not ending in a cryogenic state. And more importantly, neither is my... our baby.'

'Don't worry, Lex,' smirked Superman. 'You'd bust out of a cryogenic chamber in five minutes flat.'

'Two minutes,' said Lex.

'Four,' said Superman.

'Three,' said Lex.

'Okay,' said Superman. 'Three minutes.' His voice softened. He came closer, and Lex could feel the heat from his magnificent body, melting a little more of the protective glacier he'd built around his heart. 'Don't worry,' he said again. 'I won't let anything happen to you. Or the baby. And we have to name the baby, by the way. Sometime soon.'

'After he's born,' said Lex. 'I'm not tempting fate.'

Superman... Clark pulled him into his arms, and Lex rested his head on his shoulder for a moment, breathing in the musk of his body. Then he pushed him away, gently but firmly. 'The AI?' he prompted. 'The baby? That's why we're here. If that wasn't the AI talking to us, what was it?'

'It's part of the AI,' said Clark. 'After all those problems I had, I decided the AI had too much power on its own, as a single entity, so I divided it into sections. I told you all this, remember? Weren't you listening? Okay. The section we were dealing with a moment ago, I call the Gatekeeper. It maintains the Fortress, and follows my orders. Most of the time...'

'And now my orders, I hope.'

'And now your orders. It acts as a check on Jor-El.'

'Jor-El being your father,' said Lex, in what he hoped was a calm voice.

'Jor-El was my father, yes. The AI was built by him, based on him.'

'And it went nuts, and imprisoned you,' said Lex. 'Of course. I remember that part.'

'The long journey to Earth damaged it, but it's fixed, now. I told you.'

'Excuse me it I take that with the proverbial grain of salt. I need to have a little talk with Jor-El, before I hand his grandson over to him.'

'I agree,' said another Voice from on high. A deeper Voice this time, sounding appropriately Fatherly, and grating on Lex's last nerve.

'Good Morning,' Lex purred. 'Or what passes for morning in this God-forsaken place. To whom am I speaking?'

'There, Lex,' said Clark. 'Behind you.'

Lex turned. A strange video projection was playing against one of the walls of ice.

'You must be Lex Luthor,' said the apparition.

'If you've been listening in -- and you'd be an idiot if you haven't been -- that would be obvious.'

'True, but I never pass up a chance to state the obvious. The obvious can have a soothing effect.'

'Really?' said Lex. 'Then here are a few words to soothe you. You are not my father.'

'That is indeed obvious.'

'It makes me happy that you could determine that without further help from me,' said Lex. 'Have you heard of my father?'

'I haven't heard of him directly,' said Jor-El. 'But there is information in my data banks.'

'I'll bet. My father is Lionel Luthor, and he's a snake. He murdered his own parents -- my grandparents.'

'That is a terrible crime,' said Jor-El.

'I'm glad you agree,' said Lex. 'But it's a crime he got away with. He had me imprisoned and given drugs to stop me from exposing him.' Clark looked guilty for some reason that Lex decided to ignore for now. 'I lost my evidence, and can do nothing about it now. We've reached a dangerous, rocky peace. The point of all this is, don't try anything with me. Clark has informed me of your previous associations. If you wish to destroy me, do it now and do it outright. If you try something sneaky later, and I survive, I'll raze you to the permafrost. Got that?'

'I understand,' said Jor-El. 'You are a true warrior, even if you are, as my information suggests, a villain.'

'Oh, I'm a villain, for sure. But a potentially reformed one, if all goes well. Did Clark inform you of our dilemma? We have a baby.'

Apparition Jor-El was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'Two men cannot have a baby of their own. Who is the mother?'

'There isn't a mother,' said Clark. 'It seems that a scientist created a baby in a lab, using our DNA.'

'That is rather desperate. Such hybrids are scarcely viable life-forms.'

'Yes' said Lex. 'But we love the baby anyway. He's stopped developing and we were wondering... Clark says you could scan him and determine what the problem is.'

'I could,' said Jor-El.

'Do it,' said Clark. 'He's my son. Mine and Lex's. Maybe the only child I will ever have.'

'I will do so,' said Jor-El.

It was getting warmer in the Fortress of Solitude. Lex shrugged out of his heavy parka. Rummaged through his luggage for more comfortable footware than the boots he had worn for the trip up.

'I have finished the scan,' said Jor-El. 'He is indeed the son of both of you. Two men. The offspring is viable, and should develop normally. I don't understand what the problem is. Unless perhaps the child doesn't wish to grow.'

'What?' said Lex. 'You think the problem is psychological? He's only a foetus. How could he even have had time to develop a psychology?'

'The foetus is mentally advanced for his age. His brain development is close to that of a two year old child. If he had the physical capacity to speak, he'd be using full sentences, if short ones.'

'Okay,' said Lex. 'So he did inherit my brains, and Clark's hair.'

Clark grinned. 'What do you think the answer is, Jor-El? To convince him it's safe to grow up and move out of the incubator? I don't know if such a feat is possible.'

'It was likely the shock of the explosion,' said Lex. 'He feels threatened. I've been giving him all the love I can, but maybe he's afraid that if he grows up, I won't love him any longer.'

'If he's otherwise healthy, perhaps we should try to stop worrying,' said Clark. 'Let him develop at his own pace. Keep trying to reassure him.'

'Of course,' said Lex. 'I can do that. If you like, we could stay here a few days.' When Clark looked surprised at his words, Lex added,' I told you, I'm willing to do anything to help the baby. Let Jor-El fill him in on some of the culture of his other father's people. Give him another perspective. Stretch that brilliant mind a little. Maybe that will convince him it's not so bad to grow up.'

'If I might comment on another matter,' said Jor-El. 'Who is your other friend, Clark?'

'Other friend? What do you mean?'

'Your other friend. The silent one. The shadow.'

'Shadow,' said Clark. 'I have a shadow? Where?' Clark looked around the Fortress, bewildered but apprehensive.

'I don't know. It is with you. It is in you. Separate but joined. I felt it when I scanned you. There are three of you in the room, but there are four as well. It is your shadow.'

************

'I knew there was something wrong,' said Clark, for the thousandth time. The thousandth time this minute, thought Lex.

'I knew there was something funny.' The thousandth-and-oneth time. Clark was so predictable. Except when he wasn't. He stopped pacing and looked at Lex, as if he'd never seen him before. 'What are you doing?' he asked.

'Reading,' said Lex. As if that weren't obvious to anyone with a set of good eyes and half a brain.

'Reading? How can you read at a time like this? Aren't you worried....'

'Worried that you may have brought back some kind of invisible space monster, or... evil space bacteria? Never entered my mind. Why should it?'

'Lex.'

'It's not like you ever did anything like that before.'

'Lex....'

'It's not like meteors ever travelled to Earth in your wake, and turned normal human beings into monsters.'

'That wasn't my fault.'

'No,' said Lex. 'It wasn't your fault. Lying about it was.'

'Lex.'

'You were afraid. You lied to protect yourself. That makes it understandable. It doesn't make it right.'

'What could I have done...what good would it have done if I'd told you?'

'I don't know,' said Lex. 'Maybe no good. Maybe a hell of a lot of good. Maybe a hell of a lot of bad. But we'll never know, will we?' Lex shrugged and went back to his reading, but the words had ceased to convey anything to his mind. They may as well have been in some alien language. Perhaps he was cracking up.

Clark was pacing up and down, still muttering, but now his mutterings had changed to complaints about Lex, as if all this were his fault. 'Why do you keep harping on it? The past is the past.'

'Is it really? The past is the present. It is also the future. We are who we are because of the past. So is our son.'

Clark's face went dark and angry. Angrier than Lex had ever seen, and that was saying a lot. 'Are you accusing me of not caring about him?'

'I never said any....'

'No. But you keep suggesting you're the only one who cares. You didn't tell me about the baby until months after you discovered it.'

'Him, Clark. Him. Not it. And we weren't talking about anything. You were off in Gotham City, with Batman, and we weren't talking. We hadn't talked in years.'

'But he's my son, too. Didn't I have a right to know?'

'I was afraid,' Lex decided to go for pure and total honesty, just for the hell of it. 'I was afraid you'd take him away from me. That you wouldn't believe me when I said I didn't create him, but I loved him anyway. I was afraid.'

'You couldn't trust me?' asked Clark, incomprehensibly mystified.

'All you did for years was to judge me, and to destroy everything I tried to do, and to lie to me. Why should I trust you?'

Because I'm Clark Kent. Because I'm Superman. Because I'm Good. That was what Clark's face told him. Clark held his calm, irritating, supercilious pose for a long, too long, moment and then went back to pacing.

Lex went back to pretending to read. But his book was shaking. Was he indeed finally cracking up? Was Dad right when he said that emotions would be his downfall? A shudder ran through Lex's body. But no, it was the Fortress that was shaking. Or maybe the ground beneath it. An earthquake, perhaps?

'What's happening?' asked Lex.

Clark looked just as surprised as Lex felt. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'Jor-El?'

'I have no idea myself,' the AI confessed. 'I'm doing a scan, and....'

The voice shut off. The Fortress seemed to lift around them, tilt around them, and then... Lex found himself flying through the air.

'Lex!' cried Clark.

'Never mind me,' said Lex. 'The baby....' And then his head hit the floor of the Fortress, and all went black.

*************

'No. No. No. Not again.' Lex sat up and rubbed his head. How many times had he been knocked unconscious? Anyone else would be a babbling idiot by now. But then, he'd started a sexual relationship with Superman, so.... maybe he hadn't escaped this fate after all. He looked around. Superman was sitting on the floor, holding the incubator unit, which was still in one piece, fortunately for him. The baby was sucking his thumb, looking as if nothing much had happened.

Superman was looking a bit dazed, though, and that wasn't good. 'What happened?' he asked.

'You're asking me that question? You're Superman. Use your Superpowers.'

'I can't see through the walls of the Fortress. And I wasn't asking you, I was asking Jor-El.'

'... who doesn't seem to be answering. Maybe he was knocked unconscious too.' Lex contemplated this possibility with considerable satisfaction for a moment. Then something occurred to him. 'What do you mean you can't see through the walls?'

'I can't see anything outside. I can't hear anything either. I don't want to try opening the door....'

'Good call,' said Lex. 'Hey! Jor-El! Wake up. The human is conscious. What's holding you up?'

'One,' said the AI.

'Two,' said Lex.

'Three,' said the AI.

'Okay, we've established we can count. Look. How many fingers am I holding up?'

A long moment of silence. Then, 'Four,' said the AI.

'Wrong answer,' said Lex. 'You're disqualified. Pick up your consolation prize on the way out the door.... What's your problem?'

'Five. Six. Seven.'

'Eight, nine, ten,' said Lex. He rested his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. We may be here a while, he thought. Why waste energy arguing with an idiot?

'I don't think that's Jor-El,' said Clark. 'It doesn't sound like him.'

'You think he's gone nuts again? Or....'

'Or he's been taken over by another intelligence. My invisible space monster?'

'And his vocabulary is at the kindergarten level? Maybe, but....'

'I,' said the "AI". 'You.'

Lex got to his feet. He needed to be standing when dealing with kidnappers. Even the invisible space monster kind. 'I am Lex Luthor,' he said, proudly. 'Who are you?'

'Space,' said the Entity With the Voice of the AI. 'Time.'

'He's looking for words to communicate with us,' said Clark.

Duh! thought Lex.

'Dimension. One. Two. Three. Four.'

'Five,' said Lex. 'Are you from Dimension Five?'

'I,' said the Entity. 'Ten.'

************

'You think this is a being from another dimension, Lex?'

'Something has taken over the Enterprise, Captain, that's for certain. My enemies are all too human. I don't see how they could even have found us here. Well, except for Zod, and this doesn't feel like Zod. He'd be cackling at us to kneel before him by now. More members of your family? Same thing. But they all magically seemed able to speak English. This creature....'

The Entity was muttering to itself, running through the dictionary, adding more words to its vocabulary. 'Effort. Emulate. Error.... Explore...explore! I explore.'

'You are an explorer?' asked Lex.

'Yes! I explore. I am an explorer.'

'What is it you explore?' asked Lex.

The Entity was silent for a moment, checking its vocabulary. 'Dimensions,' it said, at last. 'I explore dimensions. We were ten.'

'Ten?' That was Clark. 'Scientists do believe there were ten dimensions, back at the beginning of time. Or even eleven, but that's purely speculative.'

'Beginning. Time. Ten. We were ten. You left.'

'That was millions of years ago,' said Clark. 'Billions of years ago.'

'Not for us,' said the Entity.

'I'm not a physicist,' said Lex. 'But I do possess some simple knowledge of physics. As I understand it, at the beginning of the universe, there were ten dimensions. Maybe eleven, as Clark says, but who's counting?'

'Eleven?' asked the Entity. 'There were eleven? I know of ten.'

'We aren't sure if there were ten or eleven,' said Lex. 'It doesn't matter right this moment.'

'Of course it matters.'

'Fine. It matters. But we can do nothing about it -- right this moment. What we were discussing is the ten dimensions of which we are all aware. At the beginning of time, there were ten dimensions. Something happened, and our four dimensions split off from the rest. We -- the human race -- didn't cause the rift. We weren't even born yet. So surely we cannot fix it. In fact, I'm not sure fixing it would be a good idea.'

'Why?'

'Why? Why wouldn't it be a good idea? I don't know, one way or the other. If the rift were repaired, if your six dimensions were added to our four, I don't know what might happen. The results might be explosive, for both our universes.'

'We were together at the beginning,' said the Entity.

'And now we're not. End of story. We're better off apart.'

The Entity was silent for a long time. Devouring the dictionary, no doubt, thought Lex. A laudable aim in and of itself, but Lex wondered if any sort of logic would be digested with all those big words.

Clark was watching Lex, out of the corner of his eye.

'What?' asked Lex, at last.

'You seem... hostile to the... being. Whatever it is.'

'The being has kidnapped us,' Lex pointed out.

'I don't think that was its intention,' said Clark. 'It hasn't hurt us.'

'Speak for yourself,' said Lex. 'I was rendered unconscious. Again.'

'You'll survive.'

'Your verdict is based upon past experience,' said Lex. 'Every time I was knocked out in the past, I did indeed survive. This does not mean I will always survive blows to the head. Someday I may not. Someday I may die, or remain in a coma for years, or forever. The prospect of such an outcome may mean little to you....'

'Lex! That's not true....'

'But it worries me, somewhat. LexCorp is a going concern. I have horrific visions of lawyers tearing it apart in a feeding frenzy.'

'Will you stop thinking about money.'

'Money? Is that what you think LexCorp means to me? Money?'

'What does it mean, then?' asked Clark, clearly mystified.

'LexCorp is me, written large. Larger, I should say. It is my life, my home, my family. I risked everything to create LexCorp, and I would do so again. It is the only thing in my life that has never truly let me down, never truly turned on me, never truly sold me out and joined the enemy.'

'Lex, I....'

'Don't, Clark. Don't ever. Just listen. LexCorp is not about money, not about power. It is about my soul.'

'Lex... your soul is....'

'My soul is in LexCorp, because I put it there,' said Lex. 'I entrusted my soul to LexCorp, and I won't abandon it. So I want to live a few years longer, to make sure it's safe. If your little stowaway doesn't smarten up and return control of the Fortress soon....'

'Let's just hear it out, okay?'

'Hear it out? About adding six dimensions to our universe? Who the hell does it think it is? God?'

'Lex, the six dimensions exist. They're just....'

'Where they belong. Off in the world of quantum mechanics. Subatomic particles. Branes, or something. I'm not a physicist.' I don't want to be a physicist, thought Lex. The idea makes my head hurt. Worse than being rendered unconscious.

'The other six dimensions exist, but long ago they split away, so that they're not immediately apparent to us, as the first four dimensions are.'

'Length, width, depth and time,' said Lex.

'Yes, and in the fifth dimension and upwards, you get into the realm of probabilities, and other possible universes.'

'I know all about probabilities,' said Lex. 'I know all I need to know about probabilities.'

'And what's that?' asked Clark.

Lex said nothing.

Clark came to him, knelt beside him on the floor, took his hand in his own. It was a large hand, strong, hard, invulnerable. 'What do you know about probabilities?' he asked again.

'I know that I love you,' said Lex. 'I know that I'm doomed. That we are doomed, the two of us, in any universe. We're too far apart. There is too much between us. Too much space, too much time. I love you, and I'm willing to give up much to keep you. But I won't give up my soul.'

'I wouldn't ask you to,' said Clark.

'Wouldn't you?' said Lex. 'But you did. I remember that much. And you will again. It is fate.'

'Lex? No. When did I ever?'

'Soul,' said the Entity. 'Love. Fate. Doom.'

'All very interesting concepts for you, I am sure,' said Lex.

'Interesting,' said the Entity. 'Frightening. How do you deal with such concepts, living in your few dimensions? How do you know what fate is? Time for you is a simple line.'

'Yes,' said Lex. 'We are Flatlanders, compared to you. But we understand our few dimensions. I, at least, prefer them.'

'But the concepts of other dimensions fascinates me,' said Clark. 'I loved studying physics, in school.'

'I'm sure you did,' said Lex. 'You break all the laws of physics, every day.'

'There are laws to physics?' said the Entity. 'You think there are laws? Regulations, maybe, here and there. But not fixed laws. Not as I understand the term from your lexicon.'

'Of course not,' said Lex. 'Of course you wouldn't have the same understanding of certain basic concepts as do most humans. Aliens often don't.'

'But it is only a basic concept according to your limited understanding because you don't possess my experience,' said the Entity.

'And who are you to tell me that?' asked Lex. 'God?'

'No,' said the Entity. 'Not God. Merely a probability.'

'What? What do you mean?'

'Let me demonstrate,' said the Probability.

Clark had been kneeling beside Lex, on the floor, holding his hand. He seemed to fold, to slip away from Lex, to disappear.

The air in the Fortress was cold, but not as cold as Lex's heart. Clark had left him, as Lex had known would happen. He had taken Lex's heart with him, his soul, his....

'My God!' said Lex, looking down where Clark had been sitting. 'He's taken my hand.'

*********

Lex had a dream that haunted him for years after, of running around the Fortress yelling and screaming. But surely he couldn't have done anything so... gauche? The shock must have played strange games with his memory. What he knew, beyond a doubt, was that he bandaged his wrist firmly, to stop the bleeding -- which was not too dangerously profuse -- and sat down to think -- and talk to himself. He said to himself, in his father's voice, 'God, Lex. You're pathetic.'

His father's voice reminded him that he was, himself, a father. There were certain priorities, when a man was a father. First, check on the baby. Baby alive. Check. Baby sucking its thumb as if nothing had happened. What was in that thumb, he wondered? If only he could decipher the chemical properties and bottle it, he'd be rich. Richer.

Second, check on the current status of the Fortress. 'Fortress? Jor-El? Whatever the hell your name is, Clark is mysteriously absent. I'm now in command. Report!'

No answer. That was not acceptable. He was Lex Luthor, and Jor-El was treating him like paparazzi.

'Excuse me for interrupting your jerk-off session, but we have a situation, here. Clark has been 'disappeared'. I'm going to find him. In the meantime, his son -- and my son -- needs protection. What is your status?'

'I do not answer to you,' Jor-El dared to say.

'The hell you don't. Stop screwing with me. The baby -- Kal-El's baby -- is my son, also. Clark -- Kal-El, and I -- we've had sex. We've lain together. We're more than friends. We're lovers. We've fucked. Do any of these terms ring a bell, or shall I continue to elaborate?'

'I thought you were enemies,' said Jor-El, which was pretty dense of him. Why would Clark bring his enemy inside his Fortress? Even Clark wasn't that much of a fool.

'Well, sometimes there's a fine line,' said Lex. 'Between love and hate. And I figured you were lying when you said you knew nothing about me. I'm glad to see my suspicions confirmed.'

'Why would Kal-El love someone like you?' asked Kal-El. 'You're evil.'

'Maybe because he's the son of someone like you,' said Lex. 'Whatever the reason, we are Kal-El's family. His father, his son and his lover. We will work together to find him.'

'Perhaps,' said Jor-El.

'There is no perhaps about it. We have to find Clark, and we have to work together to do so. Cross me, and I'll see that you regret it.'

'You possess a certain ruthlessness,' said Jor-El. 'Perhaps your relationship with Kal-El is not so pointless after all. It could be useful.'

Halleluia, thought Lex. I've been judged by an AI and found useful. 'What is our status, then? Are we still in the Arctic circle? Are you in control of the Fortress?'

'Yes to both questions,' said Jor-El. 'But the Fortress was never out of my control.'

'You are mistaken in that. The Fortress was taken over by an alien power, who then kidnapped Kal-El.'

'That is not possible.'

'It must be possible because it happened. I was there.'

'No such incident is in my memory.'

'Wonderful!' said Lex. 'We will go over your memory together later, byte by byte. In the meantime, I need something to eat, and coffee. Clark said you can manufacture food, of a sort. The baby needs attention. He must be monitored at all times. I have to make some phone calls on a secure line. Clark said you were setting one up for me. Do you remember that?'

'Of course,' said Jor-El, blandly. 'The baby is under constant surveillance. Food and coffee are prepared. The secure line is available. You have email, too. Will there be anything else?'

'I'll let you know,' said Lex. He opened his laptop, and plugged it in. His inbox was full, but before he started reading, he went to his homepage to check out the news.

BILLIONAIRE STILL MISSING AFTER ONE WEEK, said the top headline. The story below went on to speculate about his relationship with his cop boyfriend, and whether the cop boyfriend was responsible for Luthor's disappearance, or they were in some scheme together.

A week? We've only been in the Fortress a few hours, at most, thought Lex. He checked his email. Message after message asking where he was. This didn't look good. He sent a text message to Mercy, in code, on a secure line, telling her to call him from a random phone booth. Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang.

'What took you so long?' he asked.

'What took me so long? Boss, I've been trying to contact you....'

'For a week, yes. So I see. I just discovered that bit of news.'

'What? Where have you been?'

'Kidnapped by aliens,' said Lex. 'I escaped, but he's still missing.'

'He? You mean.... but Boss. He is an alien.'

'I guess there are tougher, weirder, and nastier aliens around, then,' said Lex. 'Though I hate to admit it.'

'But... you escaped and he's still in their custody?'

'It's... it's complicated,' said Lex. 'He's in another dimension.'

A long silence. Then, 'Boss? Have you been doing drugs, or....'

'No. I'm clean and sober and as sane as I ever was.'

'Okay,' said Mercy, though she didn't sound all that convinced. And of course, Mercy knew him, and "sane as I ever was" didn't carry all that much weight.

'Look,' said Lex. 'I'm going to find Clark and save him, bring him back home. In the meantime....'

'In the meantime, there's the FBI looking for you.'

'Pfft,' said Lex.

'And your Dad has private investigators out searching, as well.'

'That's a bit more troublesome, but I don't think even they could find me here.'

'But then there are competitors just waiting for a chance.'

'Yes. That's what I'm worried about. Mercy, instigate Project Omega.'

'Omega? Boss, I don't think....'

'I don't pay you to think. Not about things like this. I pay you to protect me and to do as I say.'

Mercy was silent for a long moment.

'I'm sorry,' said Lex. 'Mercy, you're my right hand.' Lex looked down. I have two right hands, he thought. Was that equivalent to two left feet? 'I value your judgement,' he went on. 'But this... we need a reason why I'm absent. I can't be "missing", like a piece of luggage. How am I going to explain my absence when I get back? Being kidnapped by aliens? Even these days it won't wash. Even you are doubting me.'

'Not doubting you exactly, Boss.'

'Doubting me. Mercy, instigate Project Omega. That's an order.'

'Yes, Boss.'

'Good.'

'Who do I lay the blame on?'

'Houghton,' said Lex. 'He's been asking for it.'

'Will do,' said Mercy. She fell silent again, as if she didn't know what to say.

'Don't worry,' said Lex. 'I'll find Clark, and we'll set everything to rights when I get back. Trust me.'

'I do trust you. It's just....'

'It's hard to believe, but it's true. Every word. And I will find Clark. I have to. He has something that belongs to me, the thief.'

'What... what did he steal?' asked Mercy, her voice a bit unsteady.

'My hand,' said Lex. 'Talk to you later.' And he hung up, before Mercy could continue expressing her doubts about his sanity.

He had a bad feeling about all of this.

A very bad feeling, actually. In his hand. His missing hand. His missing hand was cold, and getting colder. Ice cold. He could feel the ice crystals growing, as his missing hand froze solid.

'Omigod,' Lex muttered to himself. 'The bastard froze my hand.' He looked down at the stump, as if to convince himself again that the hand was missing. If it were missing, how could he feel the cold? It made no sense. But he could feel it, the terrible cold of the ice.

'I will find you,' he vowed to Clark. 'And when I do, and when I get my hand back, I'll beat you with it, and then nail you to the mattress. I swear.'

He looked up at Jor-El, who was staring down at him, with a perplexed expression.

'The answer is hidden within you,' said Lex. 'Let's talk.'

***The End***


End file.
